


flowers and leaves, waving in the wind

by dedicious



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Long-Haired Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Other, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), SBI-centric, Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), i don't know how to tag, sbi, tags will be updated as fic progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29529357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedicious/pseuds/dedicious
Summary: Phil has adopted Technoblade, and they live happily in a cottage in the middle of a magical forest.Wilbur and Tommy have been living in the forest for six years. Phil finds them one day, and offers for them to live in his cottage.OR: SBI-centric fanfic where they all live in a magical forest.<+>note: things may be a little messy or ooc in places. please know that i'm writing this purely for fun, so plot inconsistencies and bad plot/logic may be present in some areas. do not expect consistent updates.any trigger warnings will be in the notes, so please do read them before starting a chapter.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// mentioned abuse, not very detailed tho.  
> cw// hearing disembodied voices. not hallucinations tho, they're just magical. not sure if this needs a cw but idk if it could be upsetting for some people.
> 
> italicized speech is in piglin, keep that in mind. if it isn't italicized it's just normal speech lol.

Phil was quite content with his lifestyle.

He lived in a cottage in a magical forest, far away from the prying eyes of man. He'd spend most of his time tending to his animals or farm, or perhaps reading a book. Occasionally, he'd go out on an adventure, whether it was to get resources or for the thrill. He very much enjoyed adventuring. He had plenty of extra time to do it.

Until he didn't have that time.

He had been on yet another adventure. For the next few days, he'd be spending time in the Nether as he searched for netherite and gold. He had been running low on it, and he didn't know a better source for some gold.

He'd just been planning to get some resources and be done, but he didn't realize what would change.

* * *

Technoblade was seven and out on a trek for gold in the Nether. He had come across a particular patch of soul sand, and grumbled when he heard the anguished cries of the trapped souls, slowing him down. He trudged along, feet dragging in the slowing sand. He'd been trying to pull one foot out of a particularly tough patch when he heard a sound. The unmistakable sound of a ghast shooting a fireball.

His head snapped upward, and he caught eye of the fireball speeding towards him immediately. Swiftly and instinctively, he brought his sword up, hoping that he'd deflect the fireball coming at him.

He felt the fireball bounce against the golden blade, the vibrations rock him to the very core. He trembled, squinting his eyes as he searched for another fireball to deflect. But there was none. In fact, the ghast had died to its own fireball, deflected by him, its odd hissing sound reverberating around the red chamber of netherrack and lava.

He stood, wide-eyed and shocked for a moment. _He_ had done that. He had just killed a ghast without hardly even trying. Deciding that he'd rather not wait around to see if another ghast came after him, Technoblade ran away from the area.

As Techno ran across the Netherrack, ignoring the groans of the zombie piglins beside him, he bumped into someone. " _Oomph! Sorry there, sir, ma'am, whatever_ _._ "

He hadn't yet seen who he bumped into, but now he did. He opened his eyes wide in shock, and took a step backward.

Whoever the stranger was, he appeared human. Shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, wearing enchanted netherite armor and holding a netherite axe. The most odd feature about him was the massive black wings sprouting from his back, which were currently open in surprise.

" _Uh, sorry, I'll be on my way now,_ " Techno responded, trying to speedwalk away in the most respectful way possible. Whoever it was, he seemed strong, and Technoblade wasn't in any shape to be fighting him.

The stranger seemed to have recovered from his shock, and spoke in Piglin, " _Hold on a moment there—I saw what you did._ "

Techno stopped, and turned around to face the stranger, the expression quite clear on the stranger's face; pride. It reminded Techno of a father.

Technoblade had never had a present mother or father. He knew that they were around at some point, but he only remembered very, _very_ little of them. He estimated they had died or left him when he was about four years old Since then, he'd been fending for himself out in the wild.

Techno looked downwards, " _It wasn't much,_ " he mumbled, a little embarrassed. This complete stranger had just complimented him for killing a ghast—ghasts weren't even that hard to kill! He had just been lucky—

" _You got a home, kiddo?_ " The stranger asked.

 _"Nope. My parents are Wither knows where,"_ Techno admitted, amazed by himself at how much he was sharing with this stranger. Speaking of that, he wanted to refer to this person as something besides "the stranger." " _And uh, what's your name?_ " he added.

" _Philza Minecraft, but you can just call me Phil. What are you doing so far out here?_ "

Techno was trusting Philza more and more by the minute. At least he didn't seem to have any harmful intentions, so Techno wasn't worried. " _I was just searching for some gold. I'll be on my way now, sorry—_ "

Techno turned around again, but not before being stopped once again by Phil. " _Whatever your name is, you seem to be quite talented. I have a cottage in the overworld—perhaps you could live there with me? I have a farm and some animals. It's nothing like down here—much more pleasant. I think you'll like it._ "

This Phil person seemed nice, and his offer seemed nice too.

* * *

Wilbur sat up in a tree, thinking about his life as he watched Tommy pick flowers below him.

He'd been living in a forest for the past six years. He'd been living here since he was five, since Tommy was two.

He remembered the day quite vividly. His parents had never been quite good at parenting. Their dad in particular was a raving alcoholic. One day, he'd had a bit too much to drink, and Wilbur had been up to some trouble. His dad found out about this, and beat five-year-old Wilbur until he was red and bruised all over.

That night, when his parents were sleeping, Wilbur decided he would grab Tommy and run away with a couple belongings and some food. All the belongings he brought with him was his mom's guitar, Tommy's favorite toy (a bee plush), and some clothes.

Since then, they'd been living in the forest. Wilbur took care of both himself and Tommy, doing all the hunting and gathering. He didn't mind; he'd much rather put himself in danger and keep Tommy safe. That was what really mattered to him. As long as Tommy was safe, everything was fine.

Wilbur was swinging his legs absentmindedly. He began humming to himself on the tree branch.

"Wilby, I think I see someone!" Tommy shouted, interrupting Wilbur's humming.

Crap. Wilbur slid down the tree in a flash, feet hitting the ground mere seconds after what Tommy had said. "Where?" Wilbur asked, not trying to hide the panic in his voice.

Tommy pointed a finger. "Over there."

Wilbur saw the figure. It was quite clearly a person with something on their back, wings, Wilbur guessed. It was hard to make out from a distance. Gently, Wilbur pushed Tommy down so he'd be behind a bush. "Hide, Tommy. We don't want them to notice us." Once Tommy was hiding, Wilbur too hid behind the bush.

"Why?" Tommy asked, his voice filled with childish naivety.

Wilbur hushed Tommy. Sometimes the boy could be a nuisance. "They might hurt us. Like dad." He added in the last sentence only to hammer it further into Tommy's head that he should hide from strangers.

Wilbur tried to silence his breathing as much as possible. He silently prayed that whoever it was wouldn't come their way or hadn't noticed anything from their direction. Unfortunately, his prayers didn't mean much. He could hear footsteps nearing, and held his breath. He just hoped that Tommy wouldn't give away their position.

"Wilbur, are you scared?"

Wilbur wanted to scream, but bit his tongue and held back. Tommy had just given away their position. There was no way that whoever it was didn't hear what Tommy said. They were going to be found out, and Prime knows what would happen to them when they were.

Wilbur's heart stopped dead when he heard the slight rustle of the bush as it was peeled back.

Wilbur made a dash for it, pulling Tommy with him. They were significantly slower, but they couldn't wait around and see what happened to them. Tommy protested, but Wilbur just hissed at him to keep quiet.

"Wilby, I want to say hi!"

The person who had noticed them was shouting now. Wilbur could tell they were a man by the voice. "Ay, kids! We aren't gonna hurt you!"

Wilbur foolishly stopped in his tracks before realizing the man's word usage. _We_. That meant someone else was with him. Wilbur silently cursed himself for stalling as he started to run again—

Wait, he wasn't holding on to Tommy anymore.

He whipped around to see the boy bounding towards the man, zero suspicion or wariness. Wilbur wanted to run away, but he couldn't leave Tommy behind. After all, it was Tommy he cared about, and if Tommy got injured or hurt the world would pay for it.

Wilbur sprinted back towards Tommy. If he didn't hunt around the forest so often, he would've been out of breath by now. He was angry at Tommy. He grabbed Tommy's wrist, trying not to pay attention to the man watching them. "Tommy, that was _real_ stupid of you."

"I-I'm sorry, Wilby, he seemed nice—could you please let go?" Tommy tried to pry his wrist out of Wilbur's grasp. Realizing what he was doing, Wilbur immediately loosened his grip. He stared forward, dread creeping into his veins and bloodstream.

He was acting like his dad.

When Wilbur had run away from home with Tommy when he was five, he vowed to not end up like his father. He vowed that no matter what happened, he would never treat Tommy in that way. He remembered when he'd finally gotten far away enough and promised to Tommy how he'd be a better caretaker than dad ever was, even though the two-year-old understood none of it.

The man who had found them shouted another thing. "Hey kid, you alright! You don't look very happy right now."

Wilbur shook himself from his thoughts and took a look at the man who was talking.

He had a kind face, and his blue eyes were not clouded by any influence. Wilbur knew when people were ready to attack, and this man was not. He wasn't tense, he wasn't staring, his body wasn't in a defensive or offensive position. There was a weapon on his back, but his hands were nowhere near it. Wilbur relaxed. He definitely knew that the man wouldn't hurt him.

"Sorry," Wilbur mumbled. "What are you doing out here?"

Not many people came near Wilbur and Tommy. After all, they were in a secluded forest far away from the majority of society. It was what Wilbur had wanted. Sometimes he wondered what life would've been like if he had instead decided to show up on some random person's doorstep, but five-year-old him was scared that it would be another bad person. So he'd chosen to go somewhere far away, where his dad would never find him. That worked out pretty well.

But now this random man had found him. Wilbur didn't know where he came from, or what he was doing so far out.

"Searching for a woodland mansion with my son," the man replied, giving an affectionate pat on the back to a figure Wilbur hadn't noticed earlier.

Wilbur estimated that the other person was around his age. The kid clearly wasn't fully human—he had small tusks, pointy ears, red eyes, and pink-tinged skin. The kid was also carrying a shiny black sword. Wilbur had never seen netherite tools—he'd heard of them, but had never seen them. He was surprised that this kid that was _his age_ had such a good tool already. Whoever this man was, he definitely loved his son.

"Hi, I'm Tommy! What's your name?" Tommy eagerly bounced on his heels.

"Technoblade." Technoblade only delivered a one-word response. He definitely wasn't a fan of social interactions, Wilbur observed.

"I'm Philza Minecraft, but Phil works just fine." The man—Philza smiled, a warm and inviting smile. Though Wilbur was wary of strangers, he had to admit that he had already begun to trust Philza. "And who's the other boy?"

"I'm Wilbur. Wilbur S-Soot."

"So, Wilbur, how long have you been out here? A while, by the looks of it."

Wilbur glanced down at his clothes. He'd long outgrown the clothes he had brought when he left the house six years ago. However, the people of the forest had been on one of their travels one day when they had noticed Wilbur and Tommy, and kindly handed them new clothes. The clothes were infused with magic, so they'd always be able to fit Wilbur and Tommy. Wilbur expressed great thanks, and the people went on their way. Every now and then, when their paths crossed, Wilbur would have a little chat with them before each of them continued their day. The forest peoples had offered for Wilbur and Tommy to live with them multiple times, but Wilbur turned them down every time. He was fine on his own.

Wilbur's clothes were also dirty, covered in moisture, dirt, splinters, and leaves. Tommy's weren't much different. He'd been planning to wash them today, at least, so they would be fresh in just a few hours.

"Y-yeah. About six years," Wilbur responded honestly.

Philza's eyebrows raised. "And how old are you?"

Wilbur nervously shuffled his feet. "Eleven. Left my house when I was five. Been living here with Tommy and taking care of him." Philza was quite clearly shocked by this. Wilbur knew that it wasn't normal for eleven-year-olds to be living in the wild, but he'd managed to get along just fine. "I'm fine," Wilbur added.

"Prime above, kid, what're you doing so far away? Do you even have parents?" Philza asked.

Wilbur was a little hesitant to answer. Though Philza didn't appear to have bad intentions on the surface, he may just be good at hiding what he was really feeling. Prime knows what could happen if Wilbur gave out any information on his parents. Wilbur obviously had no clue how his parents had reacted when they found out he left. He could be a famous legend for going missing and he wouldn't even know because he'd been cut off from society for so long. His parents might have searched for him, or still were searching for him.

"I—I do have parents. I don't know where they went." It was a partial lie. He did have parents, and they might've moved since he ran away. Maybe his lie was complete honesty.

"Y'know, I have a cottage in this forest about an hour and a half's walk away from here. You could live with me if you'd like. Not forcing you to, but you could."

Philza's offer seemed very good. Too good to be true.

No one in their right mind would offer a home to a kid they met five minutes ago. Wilbur had learned the lesson from his parents: don't trust adults. Though he knew he should trust adults, the way his parents acted told him the exact opposite. He was living just fine alone. He didn't need to live with this Philza person.

Wilbur was about to decline Philza's offer, but paused. What if Philza took it the wrong way when Wilbur said no? From all the information he could gather, Philza might be kidnapping him. And he had already given Philza enough information. He'd already have to find a different spot to live after this encounter. He didn't want Philza to find him again.

Wilbur took another look at Philza. Nothing indicated that Philza was going to do anything bad. He seemed safe, but _seeming_ safe wasn't enough.

Wilbur decided to play it safe and not a yes or a no. "I'll think about it." He said the words slowly as if to appear more firm in his decision.

"Alright, Wilbur. If you ever want to come and live with me, here's some directions leading to my cottage." Philza handed Wilbur an empty piece of paper, the edges folded with use. Philza tapped a finger on it. "It'll tell you which direction to go. Just ask it 'which direction do I need to go to reach Philza's cottage?' and it'll tell you. North, east, southwest, whatever direction you need to go. Try it."

Wilbur decided he'd test it out. Philza might get angry at him if he didn't. "Which direction do I need to go to reach Philza's cottage?" The paper got hotter in Wilbur's hands, and he dropped it instinctively. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, picking the paper back up from the ground. It was cooler now. He looked down at the paper and saw that it now had a word scrawled on it in loopy handwriting that read 'Northeast'.

"See?" Philza said, pointing out the obvious.

The kid beside Philza, Technoblade, tugged on Philza's shoulder. "Dad?" he asked. "Can we go soon?"

Philza gave a laugh and ruffled Technoblade's hair. "Right now if you want, mate. We're done here."

With that, Philza and Technoblade left, going to resume their hunt for a woodland mansion.

Tommy turned towards Wilbur, already grabbing for the paper. "Ooh, Wil, can I try it out?"

Wilbur handed the paper to Tommy. "Yeah, just don't destroy it or ruin it." Wilbur was surprised that he was considering Philza's offer, despite what he thought about Philza.

As Tommy played with the enchanted paper, yelling with delight, Wilbur pondered Philza's offer. He was still in the no area; Philza had just met them, and was already offering them a home. It was odd for someone who had _just_ met them to have already offered a place to live in.

Another thing that made Wilbur say no to the offer was the fact that the cottage was located in the forest. Though Wilbur knew the area he currently lived in like the back of his hand, he hadn't yet wandered far enough to encounter Philza's cottage. The area surrounding the cottage could be completely foreign, which would leave Wilbur lost if he tried to escape at any point. Not to mention that the cottage could be even _deeper_ in the forest, where magic thrived and other people rarely visited.

Wilbur had learned his lesson long ago about traveling to the deeper bits of the forest.

* * *

He was around nine, and was hunting for fish for him and Tommy. They'd been eating a lot of berries lately and Wilbur was getting sick of them, quite literally. Eating the once-pleasant berries now ended with him puking it up. Tommy had started puking a little later than him. Quite clearly, the berries wouldn't be enough to eat. Though Wilbur had gained a lot of his forest knowledge from experience and forest peoples, he knew it wasn't good that he was puking. He'd need to eat something else besides berries.

It was a spring afternoon, and the sun shone through the leaves. The crisp air was refreshing, as air in the forest often was. Though Wilbur didn't really remember too much of the city, he knew that the air quality here was much more desirable.

He'd been walking alongside a river, nearly transparent water rushing over rocks as it sparkled in the run. He was looking for fish. They'd be easy enough, right?

He wasn't quite sure where he was going or why he was walking, but it felt nice. Plus, he wouldn't get lost. He'd just need to head upstream if he wanted to return back to Tommy.

He felt a little anxious about Tommy. He had chosen a time when Tommy was asleep, and had left a message drawn into the dirt in case the boy woke up. He didn't bring Tommy with him. He was afraid that he'd end up getting into some sort of trouble, and he'd much rather not drag Tommy into it. Plus, the six-year-old would probably complain a lot. Tommy wasn't exactly patient.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wilbur saw a shine of scales, which distracted him from his thoughts. A fish. Wilbur immediately slowed his pace, focusing on the fish as he tried to block out anything else.

It was a salmon, splashing in the water playfully. Silently, Wilbur followed it along the river, foolishly wandering deeper into the forest.

Once Wilbur was at about the same place as it, he prepared himself to jump and catch the fish. He'd grabbed a stick along the way, and his strategy would be that he'd hold the fish as he stabbed it with the stick, consequentially killing it.

He prepared himself to jump. Though he was only nine, he had become quite the expert at woodland survival. That's what four years living in the forest on your own does to you. It forces you to become athletic, independent, reliant on no one. Wilbur rather liked it. He liked being his own person with his own will. He liked being in charge, though he would never use it for evil. He liked feeling like he and Tommy were the only person in the world to ever exist, and it was just them and it would always be just them.

Wilbur lunged forward, water splashing on his legs as he made a dash for the salmon. It was fast, and he was fast too. Actually, it was faster than him, but he continued chasing it. Water sloshed and droplets wet his clothes, but he continued running, unaware of how he was quickly entering the deeper part of the forest.

After a good five minutes of chasing the salmon, Wilbur saw it disappear around a corner and sighed. Crap. He had just wasted a good amount of his breath and energy trying to catch it. He'd need a good break before heading back to Tommy.

Sighing, Wilbur slumped down at the base of a tree, catching his breath. He felt stupid. He spent so much trying to catch that salmon and he had failed. Though he knew he wasn't a perfect hunter (far from it), he still felt bad for failing. Not only because he was supposed to be good, but because of Tommy. He didn't want to have left Tommy alone for nothing. He knew Tommy hated being alone, and felt guilty leaving him even while he was asleep.

He'd get back as soon as possible, even if that meant another day of berries. He'd rather end up vomiting again than having to face a scared Tommy that was his fault.

As Wilbur sat, his breathing calmed down. As his breathing calmed down, he swore he could hear whispers. The whispers were incoherent, too quiet to make out any words.

Wilbur whimpered. "H-hello?" he called out, speaking to the voices. He wasn't even sure if the voices were real, if he had gone crazy for being in the forest for so long. He knew it was a magical forest, but he had never heard it talk. It made the occasional eerie noise every once in a while, but never _whispered_ to him.

Fear and curiosity were beginning to take control of Wilbur, ferociously fighting in his head. He half wanted to get up and run away as fast as he could, but he half wanted to stick around and hear what the voices were speaking about. Conflicted, he chose to sit down and let his emotions battle it out.

Gradually, the voices raised in volume. Though a lot of what they were saying was still unintelligible, Wilbur could make out a few phrases.

" _Your poor brother, you left him alone. He won't forgive you for this._ "

" _Tommy will die someday. It might be sooner than you think._ "

_"You're a bad brother."_

The voices started getting even louder, and they began overlapping. Only fragments of sentences could be heard, a few stray words standing a little clearer amongst the ocean of madness.

Fear had won the battle. Wilbur didn't want to sit here any longer. This place was bad, bad, _bad_.

He didn't know how fast he ran, but he swore he could've beat anyone in a race.

* * *

Wilbur shuddered at the unpleasant memory that he had just relived. He had never told Tommy what had happened that day.

From rough estimation aided by Philza's paper, his cottage would be a little deeper in the forest. Not quite as deep into the forest as Wilbur had been, but deep enough that he might end up hearing the voices if he traveled far enough on a hunt.

"Wilbur," Tommy said, tugging at Wilbur's sleeve. "I'm bored. Can I play some games with you?"

Wilbur sighed. He had thought that the paper would entertain Tommy at least a little bit longer. "Sure. I'll do crosses and circles, that sound good?"

Tommy nodded. Wilbur grabbed a stick and drew a hashtag into the dirt (crosses and circles was the same as tic tac toe, but Wilbur didn't know what tic tac toe was). "Do you want to be crosses or circles?"

"Crosses!" Tommy exclaimed without hesitation.

They played for a bit. Wilbur wasn't really in the mood for crosses and circles, but he would play it just for Tommy. The kid didn't really engage in as many activities with Wilbur. Honestly, he should probably bring Tommy on more hunts, but he'd always been scared for the boy's safety. His number one priority was making sure that Tommy was safe.

Tommy got bored eventually and asked if Wilbur could tell a story. Wilbur did. He grabbed one of the few discarded books he had encountered. The book told the tale of Theseus. Though Tommy had already heard the story numerous times, he still begged for Wilbur to read it.

Wilbur read, and soon enough night came. Wilbur started a fire and began tucking Tommy into one of the sleeping bags he had received as a gift from the forest peoples.

"Wilby, how do you feel about the Phil guy?" Tommy yawned. "I kinda want to live with him."

Wilbur sat beside Tommy, legs drawn up. He decided he'd be honest with Tommy. "I—I'm not sure. He seems nice, but I'm afraid that he might be bad. He might try to kidnap us and trap us in his house. I don't like being trapped, Tommy, and I don't think you do either."

Tommy was already snoring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also i'm a younger writer so i'm not as confident in my work haha. kudos and comments are very much appreciated. i am open to any criticism.
> 
> i honestly don't really know where i'll go with the plot. i have a general idea of where i want to go but altercations to the plot are made as i write chapters. i really just write as i go, so don't expect anything to be too high quality or logical lol. yeah ik my logic is a little iffy in places but please ignore it for my sake.
> 
> it was kinda obvious but the reason tommy's favorite toy is a bee plush is because it represents tubbo :]
> 
> promise you'll find out more about the voices n stuff soon, they aren't egg-related dw. just a magical thing in a magical forest. shocking.
> 
> sorry if there are any punctuation mistakes or tense mistakes, i don't realize i make 'em haha. i'm human, i make mistakes, woah.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for long wait haha i didn't have my chromebook for a bit
> 
> this whole chapter is a flashback, explaining the whole voices thing wilbur heard for a bit, and how techno started hearing voices.

Technoblade hated the voices.

The voices told him to do terrible things. They demanded blood and they called him the Blood God. They told him to hurt Phil. While sometimes they were bearable, a majority of their demands were for violence.

At first, the voices had been easy to resist; he could just read a book or tend to the farm to distract himself, and the voices would calm down eventually. However, as time went on, it became harder to calm down the voices. When they got particularly bad, Techno tapped on his favorite piece of gold rhythmically to try and calm _himself_ down. It didn't calm the voices down, of course, but it helped him relax a little from the fear he felt.

Why did he feel fear? He had lived in a wasteland for multiple years at such a young age, surviving by himself with the occasional kind stranger or rare finding. He had faced so many dangers already; he had nothing to fear.

Except for the voices.

Sometimes the voices got so bad that Techno would lose control of his body. He'd rampage around, killing any living thing that dare stand in his path. He remembered one time during one of the episodes when he had killed a whole village, and Phil had found him sobbing by a burnt down house. It had taken Phil a long time to make him get up and move.

He didn't want to remember that day.

But Techno hadn't always heard voices.

* * *

It had been about two years since Phil adopted him. Techno was nine. They had become exactly like father and son already.

This was both good, and also kind of bad.

Techno missed being free to explore. He had been asking Phil if he could go out into the forest alone for a bit. Every time, Phil would shake his head and say no, explaining that Techno was still adjusting to overworld conditions or that the forest was dangerous.

"Phil," Techno protested. "I survived out in the Nether by myself. The forest won't be so bad."

Philza was sitting in an armchair, an open book resting on his legs. He brought his eyes up from reading and made them meet the piglin hybrid's gaze. "Tech, you don't know the forest as well as I do. There's some dangerous stuff out there, and I don't want you to encounter it and end up only being able to speak in rhymes for the rest of your life."

Techno chuckled and grinned at that. "Is there something out in the forest that _actually_ makes you speak in rhymes?"

Phil sighed. "I was just using it for emphasis, Techno. What I'm trying to say is that the forest is magical, and you don't know it as well as I do."

Techno decided to give it one last shot. "I promise I won't go far, Phil. How about I bring a communicator so I can tell you if I need help?"

The older man sighed, quickly throwing in a bookmark and getting up from his chair. "Fine, Techno. Just don't go far, alright? Bring your sword, armor—"

"I know how to survive on my own," Techno interrupted.

Phil ignored this and walked over to a cabinet, where he pulled out a device and put it into Techno's hands. It was black, and had a very smooth texture. There was a little rectangular screen, and it shined a bright green. On it was a name in a darker green; Philza. If he tapped on the name, he would be brought to somewhere where he could chat with Phil through the tiny keyboard on the device. It was rather tedious to type, due to how compact the device was, but it was manageable.

"Don't lose that. Those things cost a fortune."

Techno knew this. He had used the communicator before, during times where Phil had been out but unable to take Techno. He'd leave the communicator with Techno and tell him the rules. Techno knew the rules by heart at this point, but Phil always repeated them every time he left.

Techno put on armor. It was iron armor. It was rather bulky, and Techno would prefer to go without it, but Phil insisted. He preferred to be quick, and deliver swift, strong blows to his enemies. Netherite felt much more natural on his body than iron.

He grabbed his sword, a diamond sword with purple enchantments rippling through it. Sometimes, when he was bored, he'd stare at the enchantments on the sword. The way they pulsating and rippled was quite mesmerizing.

Finally, he threw his hair up into a bun. He didn't like when it was in face. It was very inefficient for battle. Though Techno wouldn't be fighting much out in the forest, he'd still need to be aware of his surroundings.

It was sometime mid-afternoon, perhaps 4:00. The sky wasn't as bright, but it would still be a few hours before night.

Night. Techno remembered how odd he thought the overworld was when he first entered it. He remembered how the day and night cycle puzzled him until Phil explained it. Phil was very good at explaining things to Techno. He was definitely very experienced with the world.

Techno chose the direction he would be heading and set out, casually observing the scenery. He had waited _so long_ just to be out here on his own.

Techno didn't really care where he was wandering. He had a pretty good internal compass. Years of being in the Nether, a place that looked similar everywhere, had taught him to recognize small landmarks of an area. He did it pretty much subconsciously, taking note of a fallen log with mushrooms on it as he traversed deeper into the forest.

He had been humming to himself when he heard a rustle and snap nearby him, and he froze. As he stood in place, he could hear another soft rustling of grass, following by a cry that was quickly cut off.

Techno glanced over to the source of the noise. He saw it wasn't a very big threat. Just a cat that killed a bird.

The cat turned around to face Techno, a dead bird on the ground beside it. While most would say the shocking part about it was the dead bird, the thing that shocked Techno was the cat? Hell, was it even a cat?

The creature's fur was much too bright and colorful to belong to any normal cat. Bright oranges, purples, and greens clashed together in an ugly way. It had two tails, but other than that, it appeared relatively normal.

Appeared. The cat took a bite of the bird, except instead of leaning down to take a bite, its neck extended so its head was close enough to take a bite.

Nope. Techno was done. Enough nature for today.

As Techno backed away, the creature took notice, and its neck extended upward as it looked for the source of the movement. Techno almost wanted to puke. No creature's neck was supposed to be _that_ long.

Techno stood still, trying not to display any sign of fear or panic. He didn't look the creature in the eyes, afraid that something might happen if he did. He waited with bated breath as he prayed that the cat-creature would stop searching and eat its meal.

He didn't want to stick around much longer. He thought he could hear something. Whispers, maybe, or perhaps just the leaves rustling. There was a slight breeze, so it was probably the latter.

Techno breathed a sigh of relief when the creature leaned down to take another bite, and he slowly started backing away. Finally, he was heading back home when he had felt a little prick in his back. He whirled around to see the cat-creature behind him, bobbing its head like a snake listening to a snake charmer.

God, he had been foolish. In his rush to escape the creature, he had let himself be caught by it.

He began to feel dizzy, and colorful spots began dancing across his vision. Despite his state, he stumbled forward and sliced at the creature's exposed neck. It had been late to try and dodge his sword, and its head fell to the ground with a hiss.

The dizziness was getting worse. He was starting to feel sick. He could barely keep his balance. His head felt too heavy for his shoulders, and his shoulders began to sag beneath the weight. His legs were jelly and his feet were straw. Neon colors had almost completely taken over his vision, and still did even when he shut his eyes.

He wondered how much longer he could stand.

Vaguely, he remembered his communicator. He definitely needed help now. His hands sluggishly felt around for his communicator, but he couldn't find it.

It was so heavy.

He still had his communicator, right? Perhaps he had dropped it. Plus, his body was feeling like a weight dragging him down. He'd feel around for his communicator on the forest floor.

Everything was so heavy. He was beginning to hear something—whispers, voices. They were angry, and they told him to take revenge. _I_ _already have taken revenge_ , he thought in protest, but the voices didn't respond.

No luck finding his communicator, and now he could feel unconsciousness pulling at the corners of his mind. It was begging him to fall into it. Being unconscious would definitely be better than whatever he was going through now—no, no it wouldn't. He couldn't risk staying out here during the night and having Prime knows what come across him.

The voices were becoming sharper, and even in his hazy mind Techno could make out what were they were saying.

" _You're weak. Show everyone you're powerful. Take revenge._ "

" _Spill blood._ "

" _Don't show weakness. Your enemies will take advantage of it._ "

" _Blood for the Blood God_."

He gave up searching for his communicator. He'd try and get back home—or at least get as far as he could make it before he passed out. He dashed through the forest, praying to Prime that he had chosen the right way in his hazy mind.

The forest around him was a sickening blur, and Techno wanted to vomit more than ever. He fought it. He fought everything that begged for him to just give up.

Finally, he saw Phil's cottage in the distance.

He passed out.

* * *

Phil had resumed reading his book. He had been on a particularly interesting part when he heard a shriek.

Panicked, he placed his bookmark in and snapped the book shut. He wondered who, or what had shrieked. _It was Techno_ , his mind supplied. Even though there was no evidence that it was Techno, he had a terrifying feeling that it was. Parental instincts, he assumed.

He threw open the door to the cottage, hastily closing it behind him before he ran towards the source of the noise. Sure enough, he saw Techno collapsing as he got around to the back end of his cottage. "Techno!" Phil shouted, rushing out towards his son. He kneeled down beside the hybrid and laid a hand on Techno's side, gently shaking him. "Techno, are you okay?"

No response.

Shit.

Phil leaned a little closer, trying to see what had caused this. He noticed it almost immediately; the slight orange, purple and green discoloration of Techno's skin gave it away. An Aciddalus. Phil cursed himself under his breath. Aciddaluses were nasty buggers, though they never did any real damage. Techno would be okay, but would probably be a little sick and disoriented for the next few days.

Phil took off Techno's iron armor. He didn't want to carry the boy while he was wearing armor. Techno was already heavy enough on his own. He'd fetch the armor back in a bit, once he had tended to Techno.

Phil opened the door to his cottage, this time trying to be more careful with it. The doors were pretty old and had been treated rather harshly when Phil had dashed out to check on his son. He laid Techno on his couch beside the fireplace and kneeled beside him. Techno didn't even make a noise, just limply laid there on the soft couch.

Phil got up started searched through his cabinet, looking for a potion of weakness. He would feel bad giving it to Techno, but it was the only way he knew of to ease the Aciddalus' effects. After rummaging through the cabinet for a bit, he found the weakness potion he was looking for. Phil gave the glass bottle a little shake, and the black liquid inside sloshed around. He grabbed a small cup and uncorked the weakness potion, pouring a bit of the potion into the cup. He felt bad about what he was going to do, but he wanted to make things as pleasant for Techno as possible.

Once the cup was filled about a quarter, he plugged the potion back up and sat it back in the cabinet. Grabbed the glass, he walked over to Techno. Getting down on a knee, he brought the cup to Techno's lips, and Techno drank it. "I'm sorry, Tech," Phil muttered. "This is what I've gotta do." Though he knew the boy didn't hear anything he said, saying it made Phil feel a little less guilty.

He patted Technoblade on the head.

Two days later, Techno had finally gotten up. Phil had been feeding him the weakness potion as little as he could, but he could definitely see significant progress with Techno. Usually it would take about a week for the discolored skin to return to normal, but by day two it was already back to that slight pink. The weakness potions definitely did help, despite how much Phil hated giving them to Techno.

Techno rubbed his eyes. "Phil," he said groggily. "Are we having potatoes for breakfast today?"

Phil chuckled. "No, Techno. It's been two days since you passed out just outside my house. I've been treating the effects of the Aciddalus for you while you've been unconscious."

Techno looked confused. "Aciddalus?"

"The creature that made you pass out. They're called Aciddaluses. I promise it won't have any lasting damage."

Techno whimpered quite suddenly. It was a very out-of-character thing for Techno to do. "Ph-Phil, can you tell them to stop? It's not funny."

Sudden worry nearly stopped Phil's heart, but he tried to appear fine as he replied, "Who? It's just me and you, Tech." Indeed, it was just him and Techno. No "them".

"St-stop joking, Phil. The—the people demanding blood, t-tell them to stop," Techno stuttered, his voice sounding more pathetic by the moment. Techno _never_ sounded this pathetic.

Phil remembered a place—the Whispering Weeds is what the forest peoples called it, or "The Whisperers" for short. They avoided it. The place was cursed and had dark energy. When Phil asked one of the forest people about it, they just shook their head and muttered, "When you're near it, you hear voices that tell you your worst fear and bring out the worst in you. Sometimes the voices never leave you."

What he had been told was chilling enough, but he was especially scared about what had happened to Technoblade. What if Techno had ventured near the Whispering Weeds and the voices had stuck with him? Phil had never told Techno about the Whispering Weeds, so that would explain his confusion.

Phil's voice dropped. "Techno—what do they say? Tell me."

"Blood for the B-Blood God, some stuff like that. They also—" Techno hiccupped. "—tell me n-not to show weakness. They t-tell me to s-seek revenge."

Phil nodded, silently piecing together the information he'd been given.

Techno had said that the voices demanded blood, and said things like "blood for the Blood God." Phil could assume that Techno hated spilling blood for no reason. Techno had said that the voices told him not to show weakness. That one was pretty clear. Techno didn't like to appear weak. Revenge? Phil couldn't quite figure it out, but it was probably just a thing that was said to encourage spilling blood. Phil wasn't quite sure what the revenge was for.

Phil had finished piecing together the information and spoke. "Techno. I think I know what's going on."

"W-what's going on?" Techno hiccupped.

"There's this place the forest peoples told me about called the Whispering Weeds. It's a cursed place that the forest peoples avoid at all costs. They told me that there are voices there that tell you your worst fear and bring out the worst in you. They also told me that sometimes the voices stay with you."

"St-stay?" Techno gulped.

"They might stay, Techno. You'll just have to learn to ignore them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drug cat
> 
> anyways like i tried to add some new stuff here?? add more about how the forest is magical y'know.
> 
> sorry this chapter is a little underwhelming, i wrote this in like two or three hours so haha it's kinda bad. mostly just some backstory stuff look i promise next chapter will be longer and better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hd quality video playback
> 
> haha sorry for the wait i was staying at my grandparent's for a few days and didn't have my chromebook so uh yeah  
> at least my grandparents live pretty close to a forest (washington state tingz) so i took a few walks in the forest and now i have an, mmmmm fresh experience of what forests are like again. omfg i love forests. very aestjetic.

Wilbur sat on a branch, thinking about Philza and his offer. Wilbur had been thinking about it for quite a while. He still felt quite conflicted about it. He would love to have a good parent, but at the same time he couldn't be completely sure about Philza's intentions. He definitely appeared good, but Prime knows what he could be hiding beneath the surface. The kid that he had brought with him, Technoblade, was awfully quiet. Technoblade didn't appear to be much of a talker, but it was abnormal how quiet he was for his age.

Beneath Wilbur, Tommy was poking at something in a bush with a stick. Wilbur casually wondered what it was, and it was soon clear that it was a bird as a shape quickly flew off from the bush.

"Treat the wildlife here nicely, Tommy," Wilbur said from the tree branch.

Tommy looks up at him, giggling. "It was a bird! The guy we saw yesterday had big bird wings." He said the words as if they're not a blatantly obvious fact, but instead a discovery that he himself had just made.

Wilbur plays into it, though. "Really? You're a smart kid, Tommy."

The latter sentence was honest. Wilbur truly did believe Tommy was a smart kid, despite his impulsive and stubborn personality. Wilbur was no teacher, but he taught Tommy as best as he could and the boy was always quick to learn and understand. He could tell that Tommy would do great things one day.

Tommy ran to the tree that Wilbur's sitting on and climbed it as best as he could, taking a lower branch sitting around seven and a half feet up from the ground. "Wil, I want to live with Phil. He's nice."

"I've been thinking about it, Tommy. I want to live with Philza too, but I think he could be bad."

Tommy's expression changed to one of confusion. "What do you mean? He wasn't bad when he was talking to us. He didn't try to hurt us or anything."

Wilbur shifted so he was facing Tommy more. "You see," Wilbur began, "some people might _seem_ good, but are really bad. That's why we haven't gone to Philza yet. I want to, but I'm afraid once we get there he'll turn bad."

Tommy looked crestfallen, as if someone had told him he couldn't get the toy he wanted in a store. "Okay," was all he said in response as he made his way back down the tree, slipping dangerously at some point.

Wilbur hated seeing his brother look so sad. "Tommy, don't be so sad now. We still might go and live with Philza. I'm still deciding on whether or not to."

"I want to live with Phil!" Tommy exclaimed as he stomped a foot down. _Oh no_ , Wilbur thought. _Is he going to have a tantrum_?

Wilbur was bad at managing Tommy's tantrums. When Tommy was a baby, it was easy to handle when he began to cry, as it usually meant he needed sleep or food or water. When he became a toddler, it became harder. Sometimes Tommy's demands were unclear, sometimes they were impossible, and sometimes they were plain stupid. While most of Tommy's blowups had become much more manageable, they were still sometimes hard to handle. They exhausted Wilbur a lot, which was bad. He needed his energy so he could take care of himself and Tommy, and wasting it on a tantrum was bad.

"I'm still deciding. Look, I promise that I'll have my decision by sunset, alright?" Wilbur threw out the promise in hopes that it would calm Tommy down. It had the opposite effect.

"I don't want to wait! I want to live with him _now_!" Tommy shouted, crossing his arms.

Wilbur didn't have the energy or willpower to deal with this. "I'll take us on a trip. We can see where Philza lives, but we head straight back here after."

Tommy whooped and pumped a fist into the air. It's a very quick mood shift, Wilbur noted casually. Tommy did that sometimes. One moment he'd be crying, then you'd offer him a snack and he'd change to a cheerful smile and wipe his tears. It was rather odd, but it was probably just a thing that kids did.

Wilbur grabbed the folded paper from his pocket and opened it. It was blank, cleared since its last usage. Wilbur cleared his throat and asked the parchment, "Which direction do I need to go to reach Philza's cottage?"

The paper heated up, and Wilbur once again instinctively dropped it, rubbing his hands on his pants. The paper fluttered to the ground and cooled off, and Wilbur bent down and reached it. It read northeast, same as yesterday. Wilbur took a look at the sun (it had just risen) and from there figured out which direction to head. He didn't have a compass on him. He'd have to ask the forest peoples for one the next time they came around. Prime knows how many extra compasses they had with how much they traveled. The forest peoples had taught him about cardinal directions, however, and where the sun rose and set. He only really needed that information to figure things out.

Wilbur turned to Tommy after calculating which direction they'd need to go, clutching the paper. "Alright, Tommy. I need to you listen to me very closely. I'm just gonna give you some rules, alright? I know you're not the best at listening but please, follow these rules." Tommy nodded eagerly. "Okay, so rule number one. Don't leave my side unless I tell you to. I don't want you to get lost. Rule number two, don't injure yourself. Rule number three, do _not_ break into Philza's cottage. Do you understand?"

"Yep," Tommy replied, joy still clear in his voice. "Thank you, Wilby."

Wilbur briefly hugged Tommy. "You're welcome."

He pulled away from the hug, thinking of what he was going to do. Bring a couple of snacks. Prime knows how much Tommy would complain. Wilbur reckoned that without stopping, the walk would take a few hours. Philza had said it would take an hour and a half, and with how many breaks Tommy would take, Wilbur roughly estimated it would take about two hours or more.

Wilbur grabbed a pouch he had been given a while ago (by the forest peoples, of course) and stuffed a few apples in it. They'd be having lunch during their trip, as noon was soon to come. Tommy was a picky eater, but it was expected for his age. Wilbur knew apples were a safe bet.

"Tommy, remember, we aren't going to live with Philza. We're just checking things out, do you understand?"

Tommy was clutching his bee plush close to his chest, and he nodded without saying anything.

Wilbur started heading northeast. At first, there was no path to guide him, however, he soon had a path to follow. This was probably the path that Philza had followed yesterday. He could see some fresh marks on it. Unsurprisingly, Tommy complained a lot as they walked. Whether it was because he was sweaty or tired or bored, he was complaining every other minute. Despite Wilbur's many requests for Tommy to quit grumbling, he continued. Wilbur had been trying to minimize the number of breaks they took, but he had already counted three in their first forty-five minutes.

After the millionth complaint from Tommy, Wilbur took a glance at the sky. He noticed the sun was about centered in the blue expanse. Wilbur paused and turned to Tommy, who also stopped. "It's lunchtime, Tommy. I'll get a break from your complaints for a bit, thank Prime."

Tommy's only response was a groan of relief as he slumped down on a tree trunk. "Wilby, I'm so hungry I could eat a hippo."

"I think the saying is 'I'm so hungry I could eat a horse', not a hippo," Wilbur said as he handed Tommy an apple from the pouch.

"Shut up," Tommy grumbled, taking a bite of the apple.

Wilbur ate his own apple too, and they ate in mostly silence, just listening to the chirps and calls of birds in the leaves and the slight noon breeze rustling the leaves. Wilbur finished his apple first, and Tommy took considerably longer than him. Wilbur caught on immediately that Tommy was purposefully taking longer but didn't comment on it. His brother deserved a break, even though he had had five breaks (not counting lunch) throughout the whole trip so far. Wilbur wanted to make things as easy and Tommy as possible, and if that meant extending the time it took to get to Philza's cabin slightly, so be it.

Once Tommy finished, Wilbur stood it and held a hand above Tommy, silently prompting him to grab it and lift himself up. "Come on, Tommy. We still need to get home, and I would prefer it not to be dark when we do."

The boy grunted in annoyance, but took Wilbur's hand and hoisted himself up from his sitting position. Wilbur gave Tommy a little pat on the back before they resumed. Tommy's grumbling followed soon after they had continued walking. During breaks, Wilbur would take a moment to make sure they were going in the right direction. He had gotten better at not automatically dropping the paper when it heated up, but he still did it occasionally.

Soon enough, they stumbled upon a clearing with a house in it. Tommy gasped in awe, and Wilbur couldn't help but feel comforted just by how cozy it looked.

The cottage was small, built with stone bricks and some sort of dark wood, spruce and dark oak by the looks of it. Lanterns hung from a doorway, swinging with a squeak in the afternoon wind. There were vines that had grown on part of the home, however, they didn't appear to make the structure unstable at all. A chimney on the side of the cottage had smoke rising from it. Looks like Philza was home.

"I want to live with Phil," Tommy stated. Wilbur was well aware of this by now.

"I know, Tommy," Wilbur whispered in response, "but we can't go now. We're just checking."

"Wilbur, could we have a snack? I'm hungry." Though the question from Tommy was rather unexpected, without thinking Wilbur reached into his pouch and began to pull out an apple before he realized.

Shit.

He just made a mistake.

Tommy was dashing towards the cottage, and Wilbur quickly reacted and started running after him. "Tommy, come back here!" he shouted, trying to suppress the anger in his voice. Tommy had three rules, three _simple_ _fucking rules_ , and had broken one.

Wilbur was too late to start chasing after Tommy, and the boy was already knocking on Philza's door by the time Wilbur got there. If Philza hadn't heard Wilbur's shouting, he had _definitely_ heard Tommy's knocking. Wilbur's heart almost stopped when he heard rapidly approaching footsteps. He wouldn't have much time, fuck—

Wilbur grabbed Tommy and dragged him around the side of the cottage as fast as he could. As long as Philza didn't look around the length of his cottage, they'd be fine.

Wilbur heard grunting inside of the cottage and muffled words, and his heart only beat faster. At this rate, it might as well be trying to escape his chest.

"Tommy, that was _fucking stupid_ of you, do you hear me?" Wilbur whispered, his tone quite clearly angry.

"Phil!" Tommy shouted. "We're—"

Wilbur quickly clamped a hand over Tommy's mouth, and the boy just struggled beneath before—what the fuck? Did Tommy just _lick him_? In Wilbur's shock and disgust, he moved his hand away from Tommy's mouth and wiped it on the dewy grass, foolishly releasing Tommy in the process. Wilbur got up from wiping his hands and realized he made _another_ mistake.

Tommy was waving his arms in front of a confused Philza. "Hello, Phil! It's me, Tommy, the kid from yesterday! I want to live with you!"

Wilbur loved Tommy, but sometimes he just hated the kid. Wilbur knew that the kid was guided by his emotions more than his thoughts, but Tommy had to put some thinking into _some things_. What he was doing right now was absolutely idiotic, but where Tommy went, Wilbur did too.

He moved from his spot, revealing himself to Philza. The avian, who had already embraced Tommy in a hug, noticed Wilbur immediately. "Hello—Wilbur, right? Come to stay here too?"

"Only 'cause he wants to," Wilbur muttered, walking over to where Philza and Tommy were. When Wilbur reached Philza, the man grabbed Wilbur. His initial reaction was to fight back, but he soon realized that the avian was hugging him too. Wilbur hadn't been hugged by an adult since—Prime, he couldn't even remember. He relaxed.

Maybe Phil wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

Techno was reading a copy of _The Art of War_. It was his favorite book by far, and he liked to read it when the voices got too much. Though the voices weren't bad right now, he still enjoyed reading it when he felt like it.

While he read, he could hear a distant shout, shortly followed by a quick knocking on the door. Techno looked up from his book, seeing Phil rush over to the door. "What's going on?" Techno asked.

"Someone's knocking, I think it's the kids from yesterday," Phil responded hastily. Techno could hear another shout, but it seemed closer and was cut off.

_Vistor? E. Who could it be? VISITORS??!!_

He hated how dumb the voices were sometimes.

Techno didn't really want to get involved anyway. He continued reading _The Art of War._ He heard Phil open and close the door, and some more unintelligible words. There was silence for a bit, and the door opened again, two new people accompanying Phil.

They were very much the kids from yesterday. The older one, Williamson or something, hadn't really changed much from yesterday. Techno noticed how the kid's hair was a little on the long side, and very tangled with leaves and branches. The younger one (Techno had forgotten his name) was bouncing up and down, eyes lit with excitement and pure joy. The younger's hair was not in much better shape.

"Meet your new brothers, Wilbur and Tommy," Phil announced to Techno. At least Techno was close enough with Wilbur's name.

_Technobrother. WOAH!! New brothers?? Blood for the Blood God. How did they get in the forest?_

"Wait a minute," the older kid, Wilbur, said, "I never agreed to live here."

Techno didn't see why Wilbur didn't want to live here. The cottage was definitely more desirable than whatever messy forest clearing the two boys had been living in for Prime knows how long. If he were in Wilbur's position, he would've accepted the offer the moment it left Phil's mouth. He wasn't quite sure why the boy had hesitated.

"Bruh, it's a lot better in here," Techno said. "Wanna go live in a forest with the bugs all day? Go ahead."

"Hey! There aren't many bugs where we live." the younger of the two, Tommy, protested.

"It's a forest. There are bugs," Techno stated.

Phil smiled. "Look at you, bonding already."

Wilbur rolled his eyes at this. "We aren't _bonding_. I haven't agreed to be adopted by you. Tommy and I are going to leave, now." Wilbur grabbed Tommy's hand, but Tommy didn't budge. The boy's face turned into a frown. "We're going, Tommy," he repeated.

"Don't really appear to be leaving," Techno commented. "I'm gonna go somewhere else so I continue reading my book, thank you very much."

Phil was saddened by this. "Techno, are you going to leave your brothers already?"

"I said, we _are not_ staying here—" Wilbur interrupted, but he was cut off by Techno's response to Phil.

"Well, I don't see any reason to stick around. One of them doesn't want to be here and the other thinks that bugs don't live in the forest. You go sort things out with them, I'll leave."

_So soon? BROTHERS, POG!! EEEEEEE!_

Techno climbed up the stairs to continue reading his book.

It was night now. Techno had stayed in his room since he had gone up when Wilbur and Tommy arrived. He'd get to know them later, and right now Phil needed to get them settled. It seemed that Wilbur had started to become okay with the idea of living here, judging by the snippets of conversation Techno occasionally heard. Techno remained in his room until dinner, when Phil called him downstairs.

Tommy still appeared to be bright and energetic, cheerfully humming as he ate the steak that they were having dinner. Wilbur was a lot more silent, eating his food slowly, quite clearly cherishing every bite.

Techno sat down at the table and started cutting his portion of steak when Tommy striked up a conversation with him.

"Why're you so mysterious?" the kid asked, a genuine look of curiosity in his eyes.

"Dunno," Techno shrugged. Tommy tried to talk with him a few more times, but the conversations didn't go very far. Once dinner was finished, Techno went back to his room.

Bedtime soon came. Techno thought it was silly how Phil made him sleep at a certain time; they lived in the wild, they didn't have to wake up and be on time for anything. However, it felt better now knowing that there would be two other people having to go to sleep at eleven pm.

Techno dressed into his pajamas and turned off his light, getting comfortable in his bed as he prepared to "go to sleep". In reality, he was planning on reading his book for a little longer that night.

Techno waited a couple minutes until he was sure it was okay to bring out his book and start reading it. Thankfully, he could see quite well in the dark, so reading wasn't a struggle. He had been reading for about fifteen minutes when he heard approaching footsteps and a light knock on the door.

It was probably Phil. Techno quickly dog-eared his book and shoved it under his pillow. "Come in," he whispered.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Phil. It was... Tommy.

"I'm scared," the boy said, "can I sleep with you?"

Techno was quite surprised by this. Tommy had a brother that he knew much more than Techno, and yet he chose to sleep with him instead? It confused Techno, but the gesture warmed his heart.

"Sure," Techno replied, the slight smile barely noticeable in his monotone voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmm l o n k chapter
> 
> also here's a very minor detail: the part of this chapter that's in wilbur's pov, wilbur refers to phil as philza until phil hugs him.
> 
> bruh i'm so sad about tommy's march first stream because omfg tommy is my favorite character in roleplay, why do i always like the characters with the most trauma whYYYYY. however i'm like 95% sure that tommy will be revived and i have a couple theories as to how lmao. wow, what i said is very unrelated to the fic but eh, whatever. adhd go brrr, topic is forgotten here.

**Author's Note:**

> remember, do not expect frequent updates. i want to try to make longer-length chapters for this.


End file.
